


My Escape Is My Reality

by rosemary_madness



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F-K YEAH BC IM INTO THAT SHIT OOF, First Time, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Parental Abuse, Pining, Romance, Size Difference, Soulmates, Spanish Civil War, Violence, WWII AU, bcuz vidal is a fucko, idk just whatever applies to the movie plus some, physically and emotionally, satyr rick, shared pain and emotions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 11:12:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15948179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosemary_madness/pseuds/rosemary_madness
Summary: Surrounded by the landscape of war and his father's death, Morty receives the chance of escape when he stumbles upon the entrance of an ancient labyrinth. At its gate waits a gilded satyr, dressed in shimmering sapphire and toting a grimacing face, caged in by curled horns and sky-colored hair. Declaring the boy is the Underworld's lost prince, he offers to return him home after five simple tasks. With nothing to lose, and the hope of evading his abusive step father, Morty takes the chance, stumbling upon danger and discovering his intertwined fate with the elusive satyr of the shadows.(It's just a Pan's Labyrinth AU ;))





	My Escape Is My Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Woot woot second Big Bang entry! I can't believe I managed to write two :D 
> 
> I am just madly in love with Guillermo Del Toro's incredible movie Pan's Labyrinth (which you should definitely watch if you haven't already) and thought it would be cool to do a riff on, so this story happened! Kinda different and will have some added dynamics, tasks, background along the way, but it is roughly the same in plot. I hope it can maintain some of the same spirit as well! The source material is amazing, and I just want to do right by it :D 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for stopping by to read!! 
> 
> ALSO: GO LOVE THE ARTIST!!!! It's the other half of @creatures-of-de-night on Tumblr (I worked with both on my two projects) and they did a splendid job os capturing this story!! Mad respect to them for finishing it so quickly and being an incredibly kind, patient artistic partner ^_^

_ A long time ago, in the underground realm, where there are no lies or pain, there lived a prince who dreamed of the mortal world. He desired blue skies, soft breezes, and sunshine over the glimmer of gold and the soft moonlight. One day, eluding his watchful protector, the prince escaped to find what he most wanted. However, once outside, the sun he so desperately craved blinded him and erased every trace of the past from his memory. He forgot where he came from, who he was, and who he’d loved. Suffering cold, sickness, and pain, he eventually died, his soul carried away to another mortal form. Fortunately, his father, the King, always knew that the Prince's soul would return, perhaps in another body, in another place, at another time, so he strung up a labyrinth through the mortal realm, leading his lost child back home. And he would wait, until he drew his last breath, until the world stopped turning to see his child’s face again…Or so the trustless fauns will say _ .

He’d read it over and over, eyes scanning the page as if searching for something: entertainment, hope, or answers, he wouldn’t say. No matter how many times he’d gone over the engrained words, traced them with his finger, he always came back. Even as he now got motion sick on the unpaved road by doing so, Morty continued to stare. Hearing his mother’s voice, he finally closed the weathered cover. 

“Reading those fairytales again?” She asked nervously, as if searching for a distraction. 

“Yes, Mother.” Morty didn’t even need to see through the curtain of his curls to deduce she was in pain. 

“You know… You’re getting pretty old to be reading those, Morty…” 

He didn’t know about that, but the boy did know his mother had nothing against the stories herself. In fact, she often indulged him by hearing about his related dreams and nodding almost enthusiastically as he’d offer to read it out loud for her and the baby. The reality was, it all had to do with his new stepfather, the Captain of the Mill they were now driving over to and caused his mother’s new hesitance.

“He won’t like it. I think it’d be best if you kept them to yourself. I don’t want him to--Maybe it’ll be good for you. 

He nodded without a second thought, unable to offer any other response to the words, heart aching just a little on behalf of his mother and blood boiling with righteous frustration when he considered the Captain. Him and his mother had to go to such lengths just to ensure the new head of house wouldn’t snap, constantly having to appease him, even while living afar, so they wouldn’t face repercussions. And that’s all life had been since his father died, their time consumed with getting his mother married and pregnant. It was all Morty could do to bury his head in a book and escape if he happened to have the chance. 

“Morty--” His mother choked out, pulling his wandering attention over to his mother and her paling complexion. “Please ask them to stop the car.” 

He had but a moment to note her trembling frame before knocking on the glass to the driver compartment and easing his eight-month pregnant mother out of the car, fear running down his spine despite the calm breeze brushing by. 

Every day he watched his mother struggle through the late term of this pregnancy, he worried more about a miscarriage, the ungodly high mortality rate at birthing, and the very real chance that his mother could die. He’d been told she was sickly when she gave birth to him, encouraged not to conceived again, but that didn’t stop the persistence of the Captain. Incidents like this were becoming more common by the day, their journey delayed by the many stops his mother needed. All the boy could do was watch. 

“Your sister’s not happy. I guess she didn’t like the car ride,” She tried to joke, waving away the help of the escort soldiers, face down as he hunch over against the car. 

In an attempt to clear his head, Morty roamed off the path, kicking his worn shoes through the dirt and gravel when he’d nicked the leather on a rather large piece of stone. It was peculiar in its size and hue, a sharp grey that when picked up, held a faded carving on the other side. Deciding it was a rather cool find, he kept it with him, continuing further away and trying not to wince at the sound of his mother whining, still pushing the soldiers away. He’d only make matters worse, he feared. 

Through the forest of dark trees, he weaved through the towering trees, picking up his pace  when he spotted a stone of a similar, silvery hue. Perhaps it had more of the carving, too. Almost like a fairytale, the stone housed an ominous carving, the piece in Morty’s hand completing the visage of an aghast man. It was sculpted in a style he’d never seen before, solemn mouth hollowed out and agape, and the boy wondered what exactly he was afraid of before a creature came whizzing out of the stony mouth. 

It flew right between the boy’s eyes and flicked against him before flying back on top of the stone, its head turning slightly and wings fluttering to a stop as it seemed to watch the boy squeak and flail a moment. He felt crazy, but when he regained his wits, Morty couldn’t help but think of the fairies of his story, this shimmering green insect much like those who hid under the guise of bugs until they found a trustworthy human. 

He scanned over the iridescent wings and olive green shade before his mind was pulled away, his mother calling him back over and into the car. He was aware that it was childish, but it was pretty difficult for him to walk away from what looked like the perfect fairy. Maybe this place wouldn’t be quite so bad… 

“I want you to call him ‘father,’ Morty,” His mother told him when they were both seated back inside the car, his mind quickly backtracking on its positivity. 

He’d been upset by the illness and death of his father, over the fact that his mother had to remarry, but this was by far the most upsetting request his mother asked him to withstand. With the other standards, Morty knew they were surface deep, things that could be avoided or tiptoed around. With the case of the title, Beth was asking him to go too far. Not only would he have to acknowledge the death of his real father, he’d also have to actively comply with this and act as if he respected the man as his guardian. 

“I will do what I can, Mother.” Looking back to the book, Morty searched for that mental escape once more, doing all he could not to curl up and whine about wanting things to be different. 

After another hour of trudging through tree-covered and rocky terrain, the car pulled into a grassy opening that revealed the old mill they’d now be calling home. Given a final, sympathetic glance, his mother took the gloved hand extended to her and greeted the Captain. He couldn’t see the expression his mother made that came with it, but he could hear the agitation in her voice as the Captain strongly urged her to use a wheelchair, taking no exceptions. Rolling his eyes and tucking his book under his arm, Morty slid out of the car and looked up at the man head-on, trying to silently express his hesitation. 

The man had ink-black hair, greased and slicked back, a clean shaven face befitting the military, and a hat that cast a shadow over his knit brow, eyes eerily dark. 

Having only one free arm, the brunet extended his left hand for a shake, lip pulled into a half smile as he looked at the captain’s pressed uniform. Even if he didn’t want to, he’d have to be be civil. 

“Men shake with the right hand, boy,” The Captain growled, leather fingers constricting Morty’s small hand before letting go and walking back toward the main building, not another word of greeting. 

This man was nothing like his father. 

Pulled from the stupor of his swirling thoughts, the boy was greeted by an extended left hand, eyes following it up to a bright and welcoming smile painted onto a young woman’s face.  

“I’m Tammy. I’m just the hired help and a woman, so you’re free to shake my left hand.” 

He’d never met this woman before, but Morty could immediately tell he liked her. How she spoke so freely, despite the circumstances that surrounded them was fascinating and, dare he say, inspiring at a time like this. With her peridot eyes and mousy waves, she was beautiful to boot. 

“I’m Morty. Nice to meet you.” 

She nodded, sliding her hand back away and looking off to the mill. 

“Pleasure to meet you too. The Captain said if your mother (or you) ever need anything, you can ask me.” 

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Tammy was pulled back into the house, directing where all of the luggage was to go and explaining what had been requested for supper. There wasn’t much time to contemplate on the detail though. Morty found his thread of consciousness teetering back to fairies as soon as he saw emerald wings flit past and into the trees, glancing back at the young woman before giving into his curiosity. 

 

He tried to keep a casual pace, walking into the woods and ducking under branches to follow, but it wasn’t long before the brunet was sprinting blindly after the creature and into a stone gateway, desperate not to get left behind. 

The faerie-bug had managed to leave his sight when he arrived, and he was left to look around at the new scenery, familiar gray bricks erected into crumbling walls. There was a creeping silence that rested in the new air, only the sound of his thudding heart cutting through the quiet. Illustrations from his held book of stone passageways and quests whispering to be completed crept into his mind, and before he could think to question, he continued further down the pathway, only stopped with a hand on his shoulder. 

“It’s a labyrinth. Ancient possibly, been here even before the mill.” Morty turned around to face the voice, realizing that it was Tammy again and nodding. If it were anyone else, he probably would have asked to be left alone. 

“Oh? I did--” Before he could reach for his book to try and explain that he’d read of something similar, the young woman was handing it back, cradling the flimsy spine. “You dropped this back there, and I figured you’d want it back.” 

He shook himself, trying to come to his senses and overcome this trance that beckoned him further into the stone grasp. Never before had he lost track of his prized possession like that, especially in its old and fragile age, and yet here he was, unable to care as he left the dirt smudged on. He must have gotten much more into this search than he’d originally thought, mind still lost in the sound of his heart. 

“Thank you, Tammy. I’m glad you found it.” Carding his other hand through his hair, he snuck a look back down the dark pathway, swearing he could hear a low hum. Where would it lead if he did continue his journey? 

“Your father wants you back to clean up for dinner.” 

Morty felt his heart stop and jump up into a sprint with that, mind whirling back into its previous worry. “He’s not my father,” He was quick to say, clenching his fists and taking a deep breath. If there was one person he wanted to know about his unwillingness in the situation, it was Tammy. Just the thought of her believing he was close, or a family member to that stoic man of bottled anger upset him. That’s not how he wanted to be viewed, if he could help it. 

She nodded, seeming to ease a little with the information too. “Well, you’ll get lost in here anyways, so c’mon.”

Considering the Captain and everything he had to go back to, Morty wouldn’t mind getting lost in the labyrinth, even for just a little while. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kind comments and kudos are always appreciated~ <3


End file.
